


Bodyache

by reiette



Series: there’s a light in my skin that’s been dimmed [2]
Category: Shin Megami Tensei Series, 真女神転生IV | Shin Megami Tensei IV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Introspection, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11641080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiette/pseuds/reiette
Summary: It hurts. Losing everything he never had took a toll on his war-torn soul and ripped it to shreds.Destiny has no mercy. And try as he may, he would never succeed in rewriting it.





	Bodyache

_« i had a feeling you broke–and that smoke filled you up. »_ 1

 

Bright, honey-dipped irises matched a soft, but ever so sad smile. “ This is the end it seems… ” The words flowed from parted lips as the scarf he has donned from the start of it all, begins to slip from its purchase, and falls to the ground—the last delicate vestige of a pure soul whose feet ceased to walk this Earth much too soon, meeting an untimely, but dignified end. The light from his eyes disappears as he is lifted into the air–levitating off the ground–& his vision goes blurry, smile never once faltering–Flynn notes–’til the very last second, where the saddest expression possible crosses his features as his very last.

Sharp, emerald eyes widen–crystallizing in the bright light from the almighty God above–mouth delicately parted, as Flynn takes the slightest sharp breath. Reality slows, as all sound is muffled; he sees the holy boy’s mouth move, but can’t (for the life of him) make out the words.

There’s a stinging at the back of his throat, and a pit forming in his stomach. All the words he has ever wanted to say die at the tip of his tongue as his mouth goes dry.

 

Gone.

 

And just like that, light leaves his life as quickly as it had come into it, leaving behind only a bright golden scarf to remember it by.

True life ~~_ends_~~ begins here.

* * *

Since the moment he was bestowed the divine gauntlet, there was always a faint pain blossoming outward from within his core, right underneath his skin. A sense of grief & yearning for something too far out of reach so strong that, to bear such pain in full force, would be too much for any one body. It stung. With it, came a sense of foreboding that wouldn’t allow the young samurai even a mere moment of repose, his emerald eyes never once shutting for more than a moment ’til nightmares rudely thrust him out of his slumber. No matter how much he besought sleep, none came. No matter how much he besought answers, every incident left his mind with a blankness so terribly vast, it lead to only a vague feeling of being lost. It was as if his mind was locking away the contents in his subconscious, convinced it could make more sense of the nonsensical than his conscious mind’s cunning, ever-spinning mechanism.

An intrusive thought, an unwelcome marauder in his mindspace, crept up to him, filling him with unrest, holding tight, unrelenting. The most sleep he’s gotten in the days leading up to the Gauntlet Rite, thrown to oblivion. The young samurai’s thoughts always came back to the same ideas, carved into the monuments of his mind, lodged into every nook and cranny: _why him?_

The Gauntlet Rite: a rite of passage held annually for those coming of age, used to choose the elite of all the kingdom’s youth as the protectors of the lands under the One True God. The elect would then train to become the guardians of the Lord’s will. Of the entire kingdom, only **five** were chosen this year.

_Why him?_

He didn’t know what made a simple Casualry boy, what they considered samurai material. He knew of many others who had trained their whole lives, only to be turned away, heads hung in shame. A vision of Issachar crossed his thoughts.

What an honor he had been bestowed, _but at what cost?_ He would never be allowed to see his family again, unless a mission bid him go to Kicchigorgi, the only home he had ever known. So awake in bed he lay, as he awaited the next day’s challenges in the moonlight filtering through the windows in his room. It casted more shadows on his doubts than it shed light on his questions. Ever so slightly out of reach, the moonlight would never reach those dark crevices of his mind; he wouldn’t shift closer either. His body was too fatigued to move into the limelight, the trek to Mikado Castle finally having taken it’s toll on his sore body. If he couldn’t sleep, at least he could rest. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and tried again, recalling his mother’s soothing words before he left the village: _in failing, there is learning; you just have to get up and try again_.

Finally, his breathing slowed, until it settled into a rhythm that paralleled his heartbeat _._

* * *

The sun rose and set over the horizon innumerable times since Flynn’s very first restless night, marking a new chapter in the his life story; a book that was constantly being written, each stroke of the pen closing one path, but revealing a new one. The path of a samurai was arduous—dancing so precariously close to death and chaos was never _easy_ —but ever-rewarding. Upholding order and fulfilling the divine duty placed upon them, directly by the one and only God, was one of the greatest honors in existence.

Or so he was told.

Flynn never quite took to religion, instead preferring to study carpentry alongside his father, and help his mother around the house. During the rare times of undisturbed peace and quiet, Flynn would take off with Issachar in search of other forms of entertainment. Usually, they ventured through the forest around Kiccigiorgi, but never too far from the village. Other times, special times, they would come across books. The adventures and achievements of the protagonist were greater than either of them could ever imagine. So he clung to hope, and let it fill his mind since childhood, blissfully unaware that great achievement and true fulfillment would only come once the weight of the world was placed atop his shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Title and line from Purity Ring's song, Bodyache.


End file.
